Until Your Dying Day
by 666PsychoCheddar999
Summary: From the Boy Who Lived to Voldemort's end, through the eyes of one of his oldest and most trusted Death Eaters.  But will Tiberius be loyal forever? Can Tiberius break his Unbreakable Vow?
1. Arrival in Azkaban

Azkaban Can't Hold Me Forever

**Author: You know what? I do own Harry Potter! What are you going to do about it?**

**JK Rowling: Imperio!**

**Author: Sorry, I meant to say I do not own Harry Potter and JK Rowling is awesome. I did, however, give Stephanie Meyer the original idea for Twilight.**

**JK Rowling: You sick bastard! AVADA KEDAVRA!**

**-.-**

Chapter One: Arrival in Azkaban: Seventeen Years To Go

"Tiberius Richard Drew, you stand accused for the murder of no less than five Muggles at ten past one in the morning in Luton. Please give the court an explanation of what happened"

Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic practically spat this words at me, unable to believe I was capable of such a horrible act of cruelty as killing five worthless Muggles. They attempted to mug me in the street. Five huge boys who thought they could easily overpower a harmless, unarmed man. So the solution had been simple to me. Five quick killing curses and they all had lain on the floor, lifeless. Unfortunately, a disguised Ministry official nearby had administered a Stunning Curse to me before I could protect myself. I woke up with an astoundingly bad headache, being dragged into the Ministry and being chained up in a chair with Dementors hovering everywhere.

"Mr. Drew, please answer the Minister." said a toad-like woman, with a horribly sweet on her face. If I had my wand to hand, she would be able to tell those five Muggles I said hello.

My eyes narrowed and I looked the Minister right in the eye. Surprisingly, he seemed taken aback for a moment but didn't break my gaze as I spoke to him.

"I did it for the cause of the Dark Lord. Muggles are inferior scum, not fit to walk the Earth. Why should we have to hide from them? We could destroy them all in a heartbeat!" I had to raise my voice as an uproar of disagreement broke out. "YOU ALL KNOW THIS! GIVE IN THE DARK LORD AND YOU SHALL BE SPARED! YOU CANNOT HOPE TO FIGHT HIM! LONG LIVE LORD-!"

Somebody in the crowd yelled, "Stupefy" and everything went black again.

I woke up staring at my dragging feet. I was moving, being pushed along by two men wearing very black travelling cloaks. I looked up and realised they were not men at all but Dementors. Guardians of Azkaban, some of the previously incarcerated Death Eaters had told me of them. They could drain the soul from any living creature. It certainly felt like I was being drained already.

I looked up at where I was being taken. I was being led along a cell block. I recognised some of them, fellow Death Eaters. Some of them were crying or moaning to people who weren't there. Pathetic. How did they ever get to serve the Dark Lord?

"How are the Longbottoms, Bellatrix?" I called out to one of them and she cackled madly, throwing herself against the bars. Mr and Mrs Lestrange were very prominent Death Eaters and their torture of the Longbottoms was particularly favoured by the Dark Lord. Every Death eater had been told to follow their example.

We finally stopped at an empty cell, with his door open. The Dementors did not force me in but merely stood behind me, unmoving. It was a choice between the cell or them. I took the cell and the door slid shut behind me. It was a small room, with a hard, weathered bed in the corner. There was a cracked sink next to it and next to that a foul-looking toilet that was giving off an even fouler stench. I looked around at this room, taking in all of it's...charming sights and smells. I lay down on the bed and stared up at the crumbling stone ceiling. Well Azkaban, give it your best shot.

**The Dark Lord commands you to review! IMPERIO!**

**Nah, just joking you don't have to review if you don't want to.**

**Yes you do...Imperio.**


	2. The Worst News

**Here it is at last! Would have been sooner but I was at my Granny's until yesterday evening, as mentioned in My Immortal: An Extremely Mature Review. Why not check it out and leave a review? (SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION ALERT)**

Chapter Two: The Worst News

Seventeen Years to Go

Two months in Azkaban. Enough to drive normal men crazy. Normal men. But I wasn't a normal man. I was a Death Eater.

"A Death Eater..." I found myself whispering.

A loyal servant of the Dark Lord. He would free us all and that would wipe the smile off the Cornelius Fudge's face and his ugly, toad-faced assistant. I grinned at the thought and rubbed my hands together in an almost comic action.

A Dementor drifted up to my the bars of my cell and I slowly brought my head up to meet it's gaze. If it even had eyes, that is. It stared back at me, as if studying me. Like a rat that's curiously wondering what will happen next. After you get used to the crushing emotional depression caused by them being constantly around, they become almost part of the overall depressing scenery. You kind of have to get used to them or it's your screams echoing through the corridors and keeping everybody up at night. I don't think the Dementors care. I don't know if they even have ears and they certainly don't sleep.

This Dementor was holding a Daily Prophet and it dropped it through the bars of my cell almost lazily. Could Dementors be lazy? It was foolish of them to let us have access to news on the outside. If I was running this prison, I'd cut them off completely from the outside world. Drive them insane faster. Thank god I wasn't running the prison right now.

I picked it up and the headline hit me in the face like a ton of bricks, "HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED DEAD!."

A furious, unbelieving "What?" slipped through my lips at I stared at the headline. It was more of a yell but the wailing from everybody else in the cell block drowned it out. But surely this was part of the Dark Lord's plan? To disappear and then strike when they least expected it? Yes, the Dark Lord wouldn't just allow himself to be defeated by something as simple as this. I gave a derogatory snort at the picture of some wizards celebrating and smiling merrily at me and read on:

'He Who Must Not Be Named vanished last night after killing Lily and James Potter of Godric's Hollow. However, he left their child, Harry Potter, aged 1, unharmed. Almost the entire top floor was destroyed and several nearby Muggles living in the area had to undergo memory modification last night. Eyewitness reports claim that He Who Must Not Be Named was seen fleeing the scene last night, apparently looking severely injured. Experts say nobody could survive that and most agree he is finished.

"I went to help the poor man but he disappeared. Just like magic. Weird, isn't it?" one muggle told us before undergoing memory modification

Wizards up and down the country are celebrating at the apparent collapse of He Who Must Not Be Named's regime.

"It's brilliant! The wizarding community can finally sleep soundly again after all this years!" said Mundungus Fletcher, before being thrown into a large cake by his friends.

The Daily Prophet would like to take this opportunity to wish all of it's readers luck in the happier times ahead and hopes they don't forget to raise their glasses to Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived!

The paper been shaking violently as my hands trembled. The Dark Lord defeated? By someone who couldn't even spell their own name yet? The Boy Who Lived?

"THE BOY WHO LIVED?" I screamed to the whole prison.

I roared in fury and put my fist through the paper. The wizards and witches celebrating all screamed and jumped to one side to avoid the hole that I had made. I threw the Prophet back through the bars of my cell and a Dementor calmly caught it with one simple movement of it's skeletal claw, as if the whole thing was rehearsed.

I sat there, seething with anger. Not Lord Voldemort. It couldn't be. Not the Dark Lord. His reign couldn't end like this. Not at the hands of a one year old. Harry Potter. The name was permanently etched on my brain. i doubt even a Memory Charm could get rid of it. One thing was for certain. Harry Potter was going to die. Hopefully, by my hand but I wasn't particularly choosy. The Boy Who Lived wasn't going to be living much longer.

I grinned a manic grin and threw myself against the bars, screaming a bloodcurdling scream that echoed around the walls. Whether it was triumphant or mournful I don't know. But it was soon joined by many other inmates who had obviously heard the news and we carried on for what seemed like millennia.

A Dementor suddenly turned to me and somehow forced my eyes to meet his through the bars of my cell. I grabbed my throat and mouthed words that never made a sound. Suddenly, I thought, "Why?". I had just wanted to make the Drew family name feared by other wizards again. I apologised to Father in my head and then dear old Rebecca. Even to the mother I had never known.

I slumped down on the floor and my eyelids shut by themselves. Whether I was merely asleep or dead, I welcomed the feeling with open arms.

***brandishes Veritaserum* I suggest you just give your honest thoughts about this story now, otherwise my hand might just slip over your morning Pumpkin Juice. Or whatever Muggles drink in the morning. Cat pee or something, I dunno. Just review. **


	3. The Unbreakable Vow

Chapter 3: The Unbreakable Vow

Seven Years to Go

Ten. Ten bloody years in Azkaban. Ten years since the Dark Lord had been defeated. The Dementors had seemed more depressing than ever and I spent many days cowered in the corner of my cell. this was one of those days.

So, I did what I always did. Relive a happy memory, one that would help me bear the prison that had been my home for the last ten years. I closed my eyes and let my mind escape to a better world far away from Azkaban.

Forty-Seven Years to Go

"No. It's more like this, Tibey." says Rebecca as the pebble she has thrown skims eight times across the vast lake.

I pick up my stone and throw it, trying my best to copy her movements. It hits the water but merely sinks to the bottom. I hang my head, trying not to show her my disappointed expression. But she, being the friend I could always rely on, picks up on my shame.

"Look, I'll help you." she beams at me, holding my hand and pulling my arm back gently. She bends down and puts a pebble into my small ten-year-old hand. I catch a whiff of her glorious scent. Daises and the freshest strawberries. Her hair is a striking ginger and there are freckles dotted all over her face. I catch her eye and she smiles, showing her pearly-white teeth. This may not be exactly how she was but I'll remember her like this for ever.

She guides my hand forwards and I let go of the pebble, perfectly in sync with her. It skims five times before it sinks below the surface.

"Wow, Tibey!" she exclaims, letting go of my hand. "You're getting better at this!" She glances behind her at the forest behind the lake. "I should be getting back now. Mum will want me to help cook dinner. Here? Tomorrow?"

I nod and blush as she dashes back into the forest, smiling and waving behind her. I sit down on the edge of the lake, feeling very stupid. I can never talk when I am around Rebecca. My throat closes up and my brain begins to think of all kinds of things at random to say to her but not one escapes my mouth.

I stand up and stare at the lake, it's surface gleaming in the harsh sunlight. A thought appears in my head. _Fancy a swim?_ my thoughts asks me. I think of my father, back at our house and him saying to me, "You could have drowned! If your mother was here..."

If your mother was here. father's favourite phrase. But she's not here, is she, Father? She never was for me. In my defiance, I run into the lake and dive below it. I giggle with glee at the feeling of weightlessness I'm experiencing. I close my eyes and spin several times, clapping my hands in slow-motion.

I look up at the rippling surface of the water and see a black shape. I can't tell who it is from down here. Perhaps it's Rebecca, come back to play some more? I swim up to get a better look but something grabs my leg and stops me from moving.

I look down at my foot but I can't see anything there. I try moving again but I remain underwater. The figure at the top has remained motionless this whole time. I am not that far down. Surely they must have noticed me?

I wave my arms frantically at them for help, hoping to God that they notice and reach in to pull me out. My lungs are filling with water. Is this it?

Then a voice suddenly rings through my ears but it is as if it is inside my head. My drowning feeling seems to disappear momentarily as I listen to what it is saying.

"Tiberius Richard Drew. You are going to die drowning, if you accept death? Do you accept death?" The voice is raspy and almost snake-like. there is a hint of superiority in his voice. I shake my head frantically desperate for a way out.

"I expected as much. I can save you, Drew. But only if you agree in exchange for service to me for an...extended period. Do you agree?"

I wasn't thinking, so I just nodded my head slowly. I didn't know what I was agreeing to but my vision was slowly blackening and I wasn't struggling so much anymore.

I thought I heard the voice say, "Very well. Ascendio." before I suddenly rocketed out of the lake and plummeted to the ground next to it. I coughed up water and gulped in welcome oxygen.

"Up, Drew." The voice wasn't in my head anymore, it came from next to me, but it still sounded as snake-like as it had done.

I obeyed and stood, wobbling a little, and turned to face my saviour. I saw a mass of black robes with a hood that was slung over the man's head. I assumed this from his voice, which was close enough to a man's for me to make the assumption. I wasn't so sure I had done the right thing before.

"I have completed my end of the bargain. Now you must uphold yours. Hold out your preferred arm."

I hesitated, rubbing my left arm as if I was trying to protect it from this man's grasps.

He repeated his question, drawing his wand from the folds of his robes.

"Your preferred arm, Drew. Now."

I gulped and held out my hand. It shook violently as he took it with his hand and placed his wand on it. A sort of magical rope enveloped itself around our arms and he spoke in his snake voice again.

"Do you, Tiberius Richard Drew, agree to serve me well and without question, whatever I bid you to do?"

I hesitated, staring at where his eyes should be under the hood. He stared back, blankly, waiting for me to answer.

"I...Yeah." I stuttered, sweating nervously now. Did the man just smile or was it my imagination?

"And do you promise never to attempt to hinder me in anyway for as long as you live?"

I was slightly more confident this time for some reason. perhaps the spell he was performing affected the mind.

"Yes."

"Excellent. I knew you would co-operate."

The magical rope broke and I examined my right arm cautiously. He seemed not to have done anything to it though. The full weight of what had just transpired hit me in the face like a ton of bricks. What would Father say? More importantly, what would Rebecca say? Would she never go near me again?

I looked up at the man, who tucked away his wand and looked down at me.

"First of all, you may call me Voldemort."

I gasped as he removed his hood and his horrifying features were revealed to me. They were as horrible and snake-like as his voice. He stared at me with a small smile.

"Welcome to the Death Eaters."

Seven Years To Go

I gasped as I pulled myself back to the present. The prison was dark now. I must have been asleep for some time. I shivered thinking of Rebecca and her beautiful smell. Far better than the stench of dead rats and rotting food of Azkaban. I thought of what I had done at Hogwarts and a tear ran down my cheek, as I sat there in the cold crushing silence waiting for the far-away dawn.


	4. Of Rumors and Treachery

Chapter 4: Of Rumours and Treachery

4 Years To Go

My spirits had lightened slightly over the last few years. Rumours of the Dark Lord were all over the Daily Prophet;

"**DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS TEACHER FOUND DEAD"**

"**BASILISK AT HOGWARTS?"**

"**VOLDEMORT SUPPORTER ESCAPES FROM AZKABAN."**

I had sighed and thrown the newspaper to one side at the last article. Sirius Black had never been a Voldemort supporter and he never would be. He kept muttering, "He's at Hogwarts..." in his sleep. I didn't have a clue how he escaped. It happened in the middle of the night and when the prison awoke he was gone. The Dementors were far angrier than usual and even the most insane prisoners yelped a little quieter.

I was trying to escape to another beautiful childhood memory when there was a tapping on the bars next to my cell. I opened my eyes and turned to my right. A scruffy man with a small ponytail was tapping his index finger on the bar, with an almost happy look on his face.

"What do you want, Mulciber?" I asked, with a clearly annoyed expression on my face. Mulciber seemed not to notice this blatant display of emotion and began.

"He's coming back." he said, his smile widening.

"Who? Sirius Black? Why the hell would he come back to this dump?"

"No' Sirius Black, mate." Mulciber looked around to check if anybody was listening and then he almost whispered, "The Dark Lord."

I stared at him and then started laughing at him. He stared at me, dumbstruck and then shook with anger as my laughter became louder and less contained.

" S'not funny! He's going to break us all out and kill that bastard 'arry Potter. Someone's got a plan to kill 'im and the Dark Lord to his righ'ful place."

I chocked back my laughter and replied, "Oh, please. Remember that old lady who said she spotted Voldemort possesing her toast? Or the man who 'could've sworn' the caretaker at the Leaky Cauldron didn't have a nose? Besides, how would they get out of here? Dementor patrols round the clock and a Magic Cancellation Charm. Nobody is getting in or out."

As I finished my sentence, two Dementors came gliding down the corridor, carrying a man that I recognised as none other than Barty Crouch Junior.

"Oh, look." said Mulciber, pointing at the procession. " 'E's finally snuffed it. Minister came to visit late at night a while ago with his wife. Coudn't see what they were doing probably though. Barty 'as one of those walled cells for the really messed-up people."

I gave a simple, "Hmmm." as Barty was marched past. Didn't he used to have a beard? And shorter hair? I shifted away from Mulciber and sat in thought for a while. The Dark Lord was returning, according to Mulciber. I was still sceptical but wary nevertheless. If he was back, I would be forced to serve him. Forced to do whatever he told me to. I'd have to lick his foot if he asked me to. And all because of my stupid ten-year-old promise to him. All because of that invisible force dragging me down. I closed my eyes once again to relive that fateful day.

There it was again. The blissful feeling of weightlessness before almost certain death. And there was the black figure. The Dark Lord himself. But something glitched inside my head. A door opened that should never have been opened. There was an extra voice this time, more of his snake-like tone.

"The boy shows spirit. He will be of use. Incarcerous."

Then that dragging feeling but this time the force weren't invisible. Tight ropes had wound themselves around me and were dragging me down. Voldemort's plan all along.

I gasped as my eyes opened again to the dark prison. Mulciber was snoring soundly and a few Dementors drifted up and down the corridor. But I cared not for these trivial background elements. The Dark Lord had intended to trick me all along. From when I was ten. But why? Why not leave the frail, sickly child to die in the murky depths of the lake? Why save him and bind him to your will? These questions plauged my mind as I slowly drifted into an unsettled sleep.


	5. The Dark Lord's Confessions

Chapter 5: The Dark Lord's Confessions

3 Years To Go

"Hey there, Tibey! I'm just doing my homework! Wanna join me? What are you doing with that? TIBEY! NO!"

"Tiberius...get up." Was that a snake speaking to me?

My eyes burst open and I gulped in a huge amount of air. My eyes were stinging and my hearing severely impaired. My brain was swimming with a pounding headache.

"Stand up, Tiberius." came the voice again.

I blinked and wiped my eyes and looked up. And there he was. Lord Voldemort. I stood up slowly and stared at him, not sure whether to bow to him or attack him. I was vaguely aware of shapes resembling Dementors and Death Eaters moving behind him but this was unimportant. It was just me and him in the whole world.

"You tricked me." I managed to utter, still staring into his cold, red eyes.

"Yes. I did." is all he said back, not breaking my gaze. What had he just said? He was admitting he had done this? He obviously caught on to my confusion and began to explain.

"I did not come to that lake by chance, Tiberius. I came looking for you. Your family had supported me from nearly the very beginning of our reign. Your father disagreed and attempted to leave my service. But, by now, he was branded with the mark all my followers bear. I found where he lived and I was going to destroy him then and there. But then I heard you and your...charming friend."

"Don't talk about her, you bastard!" I interrupted, my gaze harder than ever. I felt like it was mere seconds before my stare made a hole between his eyes. I remembered what had happened at Hogwarts. What he had made me do.

He didn't raise his voice but almost whispered, "Please. Allow me to finish."

I breathed in heavily through my mouth, infuriated, and waited for him to continue.

"I saw you both and I thought, why not induct his son to my cause? The Drew family may be loyal to me again. I waited for the other to leave and for you to dive into the lake. I cast a small, undetectable charm on it to entice you to it. You dove in and I stood at the side, watching you swim. You were more agile than you thought, you know, and I deemed you adequate. I am sure you are aware of what happened next, Tiberius."

"Yes, I'm fucking aware. The point still stands, you tricked me. A stupid, little ten-year-old who could barely do magic yet. You forced me into the Death Eaters. Why couldn't I remember you this until now?"

Voldemort seemed to be slightly stiffer and more annoyed during his next speech.

"Lucius Malfoy recently allowed an object of mine to be destroyed. This weakened me momentarily and I did not have enough strength to keep your memory charm in place."

I repeated my previous statement, "You tricked me into the Death Eaters."

"Would you rather I asked you face-to-face? You surely would have denied my offer and then I would be forced to kill you and your father. And probably, Rebecca as well. That would've been a shame."

"WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY? YOU DON'T GET TO TALK ABOUT HER!" I screamed at Voldemort and a few Death Eaters turned their heads to look at me. The Dementors continued to drift silently past everyone, as if nothing had happened.

"Please calm yourself, Tiberius. I have retrieved your wand." Voldemort opened his left hand and held out a black wand to me. I ran my fingers up and down it, welcoming the feel of it again. Blackthorn and unicorn hair. 12 ¾ inches. My wand.

My arm flew up and my wand pointed between Voldemort's eyes, quivering slightly. Death Eaters on both sides drew their wands too and even the Dementors looked around to see what was happening. Voldemort did not even flinch and raised his hands to both sides of Death Eaters. All of them looked cautious but put their wands back and stared at the two of us.

"Avada..." I seemed to choke on the second word and tried again.

"Avada..." The second word wouldn't escape my lips. Even if I tried to think the spell, I would always be stuck on the second word. The Unbreakable Vow still held strong after all this years. I lowered my wand, defeated, and Voldemort smiled a little.

"Obviously, the vow you made to me will not collapse so easily. We are leaving, Tiberius. Now." And with that, he stalked off, followed by a group of Death Eaters who shot me threatening looks.

I followed and Mulciber walked beside me. "What the hell did you do?" He seemed amazed and outraged at the same time.

I didn't answer but continued to follow Voldemort out of the prison and into the harsh sunlight. I stood on the cliff, looking down at the swirling sea below. It looked ready to swallow Azkaban up.

"The Riddle House. All of you." said Voldemort, disapparating into thin air. The rest of the Death Eaters followed, one by one, until I was the only one left. I looked up at Azkaban, the prison that had been my home for the last fourteen years. Did I really want to follow Voldemort? The man who tricked me when I was ten? I don't know whether it was my vow or because I changed my mind but I was suddenly enveloped by darkness as I dissaparated.


	6. The Boy Who Lived

Chapter 6: The Boy Who Lived

3 Years To Go

"I have a problem, Tiberius." said Voldemort, his large snake wrapping itself round him. He stroked it fondly as I looked up at him, Firewhiskey glass held loosely in my hand. We sat in the drawing room of the Riddle House, red flames dancing in the fireplace. Voldemort had summoned me for a private audience, much to the disgust of the other Death Eaters. Especially Bellatrix Lestrange.

"And what problem would that be?" I asked, with the slightest note of contempt in my voice.

Voldemort paused for a moment, his snake's quiet hiss being the only sound punctuating the silence.

"Harry James Potter. Lilly and James's daughter. You knew the Potters?"

"Barely." I replied, taking a sip of Firewhiskey. Lilly and James Potter had been two years below me when I had been forced to leave in fifth year due to...complications. "I hear you had trouble killing him a few years ago."

"Yes..." Voldemort muttered bitterly, probably catching on to the slight smirk on my face. "I learned of a prophecy that a child born in July would...be able to finish me off, so to speak."

"Well, we can't have that." I interrupted with blatant sarcasm, as I engaged in a staring contest with his snake. It seemed to fix me with an almost furious gaze as I insulted its master. Its eyes were almost exactly like Voldemort's. My eyes flickered back to Voldemort as he spoke again.

"Indeed, Tiberius." Voldemort's tone seemed far harsher this time. "I persuaded one Peter Pettigrew to tell me where the Potter's were. Needless to say, it wasn't hard."

"I thought Sirius Black was the Potter's secret keeper. Pettigrew confronted him and Black killed him."

Voldemort gave a small laugh and waved one hand dismissively.

"Propaganda, my dear Tiberius. Quite the opposite, in fact. Anyway, I killed James Potter and moved to Lilly. Had she moved, I would have spared her. But the foolish girl decided to effectively kill herself. I performed the killing curse on the child and was suddenly no more. It was an odd feeling, being neither here nor there. I returned, of course, but Harry Potter still remains."

"Where are you going with this, Voldemort?" I spat at him, leaning forward in my chair and taking another gulp of Firewhiskey.

Voldemort leaned forward as well, his snake turning its head to look at me.

"If you were anyone else, Tiberius, I would kill you for addressing me as anything other than, 'My Lord'." Voldemort fixed me with a glare resembling his snakes.

I leant closer and whispered to him, "Then it's a good thing I'm not anyone else, isn't it?"

For a split second, I thought Voldemort was going to snap and kill me there and then. But he just leaned back in his chair and smiled. I copied his stance but not the smile. I had never smiled properly at Voldemort and I never intended to.

"I have recently located the full prophecy. It is at the Ministry and I intend to retrieve it. Obviously if I just barged in, everybody would know I had returned and I prefer to keep a...veil over my existence, if you will. I would like you to join the Death Eaters that are to be arriving there."

I drained the last of my Firewhiskey and my brow furrowed in confusion at Voldemort.

"As I recall, you don't usually ask anyone to do anything for you. You just order them instead. Especially with our...agreement."

Voldemort leaned forward slightly again. His snake slithered off of him and across the room, curling up in a corner.

"I have a certain amount of respect for you, Tiberius. You show spirit, even after you are binded to my will. I give you my word I will not force you unless you wish to go."

Voldemort stared deep into my eyes as I considered my answer. Was this man in front of me capable of any sort of kindness?

I stood up and walked to the door. Just before opening it, I turned to Voldemort and replied, "Go on, then. Give me something to do. Mulciber! Move from the door before I open it into your face!"

Mulciber jumped to one side as I opened the door and strode down the corridor.

"I-I wasn't listening, by the way." he muttered as I walked off.

"Of course not!"


End file.
